by Matt Kuvakos
of this.” Rye took a deep breath, shaking his head slightly, causing a few strands of his brown hair to fall across his face.
“Because it matters.” Charlie rolled his eyes over dramatically toward Rye.
“I don’t know, man.” Rye was still shaking his head a bit.
“Your dad?” Charlie asked.
Rye looked at Charlie from the corner of his eye and nodded. “Yeah, my dad. How’d you know?”
“Call it a holy intuition.” Charlie looked to Rye to continue to talk as if he knew he was going to.
“I got a call from his girlfriend that he had a stroke, I guess.” Rye looked away as he talked. “I didn’t even know he was still living here. The last time I saw him was five years ago when I was eighteen. We both…” Rye laughed through his nose, “I’m sorry. I don’t see the point of talking about it. I really don’t.”
“You still want to see him, though?” Charlie asked.
“Yeah, I mean, no. I guess the stroke was pretty bad. So I just figured…” Rye shrugged with a strained expression frozen on his face. “I don’t know.”
“You’re a good soul, Rye. I can see that.” Charlie squeezed Rye’s shoulder. “Can I tell you something?”
“Sure.”
“You won’t find anyone that hasn’t been bitten by the bad in this life. You know?” Charlie looked to Rye who was listening intently. “My friend must’ve been the most unlucky person to ever exist.”
Charlie had a distant look on his face. “He had a lot of the bad in his life.” He looked down to the blanket on his lap and started to pull some of the loose threads. “His wife left him for his brother two weeks into their marriage. He had just used up all of his money to buy them a house too.”
Charlie ripped a thread out of the blanket. “He still found the strength to smile, though. Then, during the market crash a few months after his wife ran off, he lost his job.” Charlie raised a finger. “Yet, he still found the strength to smile. He ended up on the streets and during his first night he was mugged for any crumbs he had left.” Charlie turned fully toward Rye next to him. “He was bruised, beaten, heartbroken, and alone. Yet…”
“He was still smiling.” Rye finished the sentence.
“Exactly.” Charlie clapped once again like he had just won something. “I knew the man well. These were not fake smiles.” Charlie pointed to the smiley face on his shirt with his thumbs. “He taught me that there’s power in joy. So much power that it can make you unbreakable in this life.”
“What’re you saying?” Rye asked.
“I’m saying that we have the power to choose goodness every single day. Now, can I ask you something?”
“Ask away.” Rye said.
“What is a good memory you have of your dad?”
Rye didn’t have to think long to answer the question, and he actually wanted to answer it.
“When I was a kid I had this basketball hoop that I would set up in the living room and play for hours, man.” Rye smoothed back his hair and left his hand on the back of his neck as if he were trying to grab the rest of the memory. “I remember the times that my dad would play with me. He’d be making the crowd noises and pretend to be the announcers too. If he wasn’t playing, there were times that he’d just watch me in my imaginary world as he drank his coffee. That mattered to me so much for some reason.”
Rye shut his eyes briefly. He saw his dad’s thin drawn out face, and his hazel eyes looking over the coffee mug, cheering him on in the imaginary arena that was actually in the middle of their small living room.
Charlie kept his hand on Rye’s shoulder as the bus appeared within the darkness down the street. “Well, I appreciated the company. It looks like your ride is finally here.”
Rye turned toward the oncoming bus and then back to Charlie. “Do I go see him?” He gripped onto the bench as if he was preparing to be dragged onto the bus.
“I think you already made up your mind.” Charlie moved the blanket off of Rye’s lap.
Rye looked at the bus when it stopped in front of him, and in his mind, he pictured it to be engulfed by fire. He could even feel the searing heat kissing his flesh, and he could see the rolling smoke dumping out from the bottom of the bus until it reached his feet, pushing him away. The metal began to bend and melt down the sides, crying into the rubber tires that popped underneath the rising pressure. Rye wanted to turn away, but inside of the bus he saw a figure waiving at him frantically to come. He knew who it was. His dad.
Rye pushed himself up from the bench while inhaling deeply, sucking in the flames raging within his head. He then extended his hand toward Charlie.
“Good luck tonight. Please know that I’ll be praying for your next divine encounter at the hospital.” Charlie unleashed his bright smile and folded both of his hands over Rye’s.
“Thanks, again.” Rye stepped onto the bus, scanned his pass, and was greeted by the warm stale air inside. As Rye sat down when the bus drove off, he saw Charlie walking away from the bus stop. He was tempted to jump off the bus and walk with him. He thought maybe that’s where he belonged too.
Instead, he found himself driving toward his pain and some of the bad in his life. He watched Charlie as long as he could, until the street lights took his place. With each light that passed, he saw his dad’s face as he once did when he was a kid, and a smile started to form on his lips.
I hope you enjoyed reading, A Divine Encounter. I’d love to hear your thoughts on the story. Please do not hesitate to leave a review, for it is much appreciated. Also, feel free to check out my first young adult novel, Addison’s Mark, the 2016 Silver Medalist for the Illumination Book Awards, and my other short story, Children Under the Stars.
Thank you for reading.
You are loved,
-Matt
